"Already in the chapel, on a table in mourning, dressed in white grosgrain and lying in the coffin, his face showed some sublime resignation. The light of candles shining on his forehead and on his broad smooth eyelids projecting the shadow of the lashes on the cheeks: those pale lips seemed to have frozen while trying to smile, could believe that "(...) even encouraged Jorge Isaacs, Colombian writer's novel Mary 1837-1895. I wrote the following verses to remember the sad ending of the protagonist in this unforgettable story of love.
BLANCA ROSA
was an angel from heaven, that sweet honey,
lacked any touch her fresh beauty,
was not suffering or bitterness or complaints
and his gait was a song of graceful figure.
wanted their ardent love hearts,
many mouths kept a kiss content;
all men
passions aroused and it was like a rose that has never been caught.
was unique among all the flowers that gave
in spring green, bright petals;
subtle aromas wind blew and fell
serene in eager lips.
The beauty and she joined the loop
of innocent looks and candid laughter;
fragile doll in her lap virginal
dreamed of loving hands caressing.
But as fate, who consumes everything,
that this delicate butterfly wings
lost his charm, his grace and perfume,
sadly leaving their troubles forgotten.
Without even a goodbye without a farewell,
it was the white rose, pure the lips, forever
staying in bed asleep
between bitter cries and silent spells ...
that mark the route of his fatal game.
It was the white rose, that of the pure lips!
Rahulig/010
DRA
Image: Madame Henriot
Renoir 1876
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